


The One Where Hank Gets A Call

by Cuppa_Char



Series: Parenting The Shit Out of Jason Todd, Disaster Dads and Everyone Hates Jason One-Shots [3]
Category: Titans (TV 2018)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Jason does not like flannel, Post S2E09, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Scarecrow's Fear Toxin (DCU), Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-22 12:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21302309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_Char/pseuds/Cuppa_Char
Summary: “Listen Dick,” he seethes into the phone. “We found Jason, and he’s in a bad way. He’s pretty sick,” he watches as Jason lists to the side, falling into another litany of begging and pleading and asking for Dick, which was probably one of the most disturbing things out of this whole mess, considering the kid usually had an insult for the other man. “I’m pretty sure it’s a fear toxin, so stop being a dickless-Dick and call us back, asshole!”---A post 2x09 Fix it Fic, AKA: Jason+PTSD+Fear Toxin
Relationships: Dawn Granger & Jason Todd, Dawn Granger/Hank Hall, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Hank Hall & Jason Todd, minor Jason Todd & Rose Wilson
Series: Parenting The Shit Out of Jason Todd, Disaster Dads and Everyone Hates Jason One-Shots [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1530623
Comments: 6
Kudos: 361





	The One Where Hank Gets A Call

**Author's Note:**

> I was so mad at the lack of ANYTHING to do with Jason's rooftop scene and how the beginning of 2x09 panned out, so I hereby provide a fix it fic, that gives me Hank & Jason. Also, I suddenly had a thought of how Jason would react to PTSD AND a fear toxin, because clearly I'm cruel and like to double up the whump.

The call comes in the middle of the night.

It doesn’t wake him at first, not completely.

He grumbles at the chime, turns in his sleep, and pulls the blanket around him further.

Dawn rolls into him, sleepy but awake.

“Your phone,” she mumbles into his neck.

He hums sleepily back, feeling her hair tickle his cheek, the scent of her shower gel from the evening before still pleasant against his nose.

“Hank,” she orders, pushing at his side. “Might be important.”

“I’m awake,” he says, although he’s not sure he is.

He blinks into the darkness. His phone is on his bedside cabinet and lights up as it starts to chime again, the glow slicing into the inky blankness.

“Okay, okay,” he says rolling onto his side as Dawn pushes at him again. “I’m getting it.”

He doesn’t bother looking at the caller ID and jabs at the phone to accept the call.

“This better be good,” he says into the phone, voice heavy with sleep.

There’s no reply at first.

“ ‘Lo…” he mutters, voice still slurring. 

A shuddering breath reaches him.

Hank startles, sitting up quickly, suddenly very much awake and alert.

“Who is this?” he asks sharply.

“What is it?” Dawn asks, rising too, concern littering her voice. “What’s wrong?”

_ “Hank?” an unsure voice asks. Scared. Panicked. _

“Rose?” he asks, confused. 

He fumbles with the side lamp and manages to flit it on.

Dawn blinks at the light but sees a mirror expression of confusion on her face.

The last they’d seen of Deathstroke’s daughter was when she’d left the tower in a whirlwind of rage, Jason leaving with her. He’d not heard anything from either of them, nor any of the other Titan’s since, apart from a brief message from Dick saying that the Titan’s were done for good unless they wanted Slade to come after them again.

_ “There’s something wrong with Jason.” _

“What do you mean?” he asks, confused because he wonders why the hell she is even calling him in the first place, shouldn’t Dick or Bruce be dealing with the kid, and concerned because despite believing the kid was a little shit, a spike of worry flares within him. “What’s wrong with Jason?”

Dawn is already lurching out of bed, searching for her own phone, no doubt trying to call Dick.

_ “I don’t know!”  _ Rose’s panic reaches his ears. The feisty, angry and wild girl he’d seen before, was now sounding scared, breaths heavy in his ears.  _ “He keeps thinking he’s falling. Over and over again. He’s so scared. He thinks Deathstroke is here, but there’s been nothing. Nothing at all and he’s…” _ her voice shudders and he knows she’s crying. He fumbles out of bed, pulling on sweats one handed as he listens to her continue.  _ “I think he had a seizure. Maybe. I don’t know what to do…” _

“Call Dick,” he says, covering the phone with his hand, directing the order to Dawn. “Tell him the kid is sick.”

“I’m trying,” Dawn says, frowning as she puts her phone back up to her ear. “It keeps going to voicemail.”

“Keep trying,” he snaps, turning his attention back to his own phone. “Where are you?”

He slides his shirt on, taking the phone away for just a second as he swaps hands, but still manages to catch her answer.

“You’re in Gotham?” he repeats, surprised. “At Bruce’s?”

_ “God no, _ ” Rose snorts through her panic. “ _ That would be too easy. Jason didn’t want to go there.” _

Hank doesn’t have time to even wonder why the kid wouldn’t want to go home.

_ “And I wasn’t too keen on the idea either.” _

No, he considers, if he was Deathstroke’s kid, camping out at Batman’s place probably wasn’t on his to do list either. Lay low, keep your head down, and get as far away as possible. So why return to Gotham in the first place?

He eyes Dawn to see if she he had progressed any further. 

She shakes her head.

“I’m trying Donna,” she says, furiously messaging her on the phone. “See if she’s heard anything.”

“Have you tried Dick or Bruce?” he asks Rose instead. “I mean, if you’re in Gotham, and Bruce is around, then he might be in a better position to help.”

_ “I tried, okay!”  _ she snaps at him.  _ “Dick isn’t returning any of my fucking calls. I’m using Jason’s phone. You’d think that fucking asshole would call his own fucking brother back.” _

Hank stills at that. He hadn’t really thought of that before. Of Dick and Jason actually being  _ brothers _ . He’d been so caught up in his own anger and betrayal from Dick, he’d never even stopped to think how it might have affected Jason. 

Yeah, Hank had to agree, Dick  _ was _ an asshole. But then so was he.

_ “And I tried to call his batdad, or whatever Wayne is to Jason,”  _ Rose snarls, and he’s not sure who she is mad at,  _ “but Jason grabbed the phone off me when he was still half sane, and deleted the number.” _

“Why?” he asks, confused. Hank might not be on talking terms with the guy, but he knew if Bruce let you have his number, it was a dumb move to delete it.

_ “Dude seems to think that Batman doesn’t want him around anymore,”  _ she says. “ _ That none of you do.” _

_ Shit,  _ he thinks. That was on him too. He remembers what he’d said to Dawn when they’d been looking for the kid, how he had needed to find Jason, because he hadn’t wanted him to be alone. To be  _ scared _ and  _ alone _ with no one fighting his corner.

_ “I need you to come and get him,”  _ Rose cuts in to his thoughts.  _ Him, not us.  _ She sounds determined and scared. Voice breathless. There’s a sound with her breaths, the ruffle of material on material, as though she was moving.  _ “Like right now.” _

“Yeah, we’ll be there in a jiffy” he mutters sarcastically. “We’re in Wyoming, Kid.”

_ “I don’t care,”  _ she mutters, practically hissing it out. “ _ You need to get here, right now. You need to come and get him. What part of that don’t you understand?” _

There’s an unmistakable sound of a siren in the background of wherever Rose is calling from.

“I understand perfectly, sweetheart…” he grinds out, realisation hitting him. “Are you even  _ with _ him right now?”

_ “I couldn’t-”  _ she starts to say. Her tone is marred with anger, bitter, and he hopes, shame.  _ “I didn’t sign on for this. I didn’t  _ **ask** _ him to come with me. I have enough to deal with without his shit as well,” _ she laughs, sardonic and cruel.  _ “And he has some serious shit, that’s for sure.” _

Hank wants to rail on her, yell at her for being selfish and cruel, but really he should be yelling at himself… and well, everyone really.

“Where is he?” he asks instead, voice much calmer than he felt.

She rattles off an address and an area he was vaguely familiar with.

He winces because of all the areas that Jason had to choose, this one was not a  _ nice _ area. It might not be Crime Alley material, but it wasn’t exactly a place you would willingly vacation in. He doubt Rose had much access to money and if Jason was ghosting Bruce, then he probably wasn’t accessing any money either.

_ “You need to get there as soon as possible,” _ Rose says.  _ “He wasn’t in a good place when i left him.” _

“On our way,” he confirms, not even trying to conceal his disgust from his voice. 

“She left him?” Dawn asks, surprised and worried.

“Too much to deal with apparently,” Hank says with a shrug, wearily wiping his face with a hand. He looks around the room and tries to think of his next move. “It’ll take too long to drive.”

“Already on it,” Dawn says, throwing a duffel at him. “Two flights booked. It will take nearly four hours though.”

“Better than over a day of solid driving,” Hank says. He grabs the duffel and starts grabbing at items - a couple of shirts, clean pants and sweats - “It’ll get us there quicker.”

Glancing at his phone log he sees that Rose actually called from Jason’s phone, which meant she’d not only left Jason  _ behind,  _ she’d left a  _ sick _ Jason with no way of seeking help even if he wanted.

_ Shit. _

* * *

The place was a shit-hole.

Hank was pretty sure that there was a hooker outside, and the hostile guy hovering near the entrance was her pimp. Said pimp tried to block their way into the building, eyeing them both with intrigue.

“Looking for a kid. Looks like a runt,” Hank says, not in the mood for a fight but fully prepared to body check him out of the way if he needs to. “With a girl with crazy white hair. Eye patch.”

The guy nods just once but doesn’t move.

“Just here for the kid,” Hank says, with a shrug. “Not here to cause any problems.”

The guy looks like he’s going to say something but then steps aside, “Second floor.”

Hank steps inside and tugs Dawn with him, away from the lingering look from the pimp, although he’s sure Dawn could manage on her own just fine. 

He glances outside and watches the street kid he’d paid to keep an eye on the rental they had used to get from the airport. The kid simply leans lazily against the car, seemingly bored. If he was anything like what he’d learnt about Jason from Dick, then the car tires would be gone as soon as they were out of sight.

He eyes the obvious drug paraphernalia littering the hall and stairwell and kicks it aside. If there was one place he wouldn’t want to get stuck, it would be right here, he thinks in disgust. 

“This is it,” Dawn nods at a door with a stain, suspiciously looking like blood.

“Jason!” Hank yells, knocking on the door loud enough to disturb the neighbors. No one stirs from behind the door. “Kid!” he yells again, thumping the door even more. “Open up. It’s Dawn and Hank!”

The door remains shut and Jason doesn’t answer.

“Maybe he can’t answer,” Dawn says, worrying her lip.

Hank kicks the door just once and it blows open.

There’s no immediate sight of Jason, but the apartment looks  _ tiny _ so it won't take long to find him. The front door opens up right into the kitchen. There’s left over food on the table and takeout containers littering the dirty and stained counter, even spilling out into an even dirtier and stained sink. The food looks old, at least a few days, and was starting to smell.

Two rooms lead off the kitchen, presumably the bathroom and a bedroom. Hank doesn’t need to look any further. He spots Jason straight away, from where he's standing in the kitchen at the end of the small hallway.

Jason is curled into a ball on a bed, a bed-sheet curled around his body.

“Jason!” he calls, hurriedly making his way to the boy’s side. Jason is sweating, beads forming on his forehead, and shaking, trembling violently on the bed. There’s a pile of vomit on the floor beside the bed. “Kid!

Jason’s eyes fly open and look right through Hank.

“B?” he asks, voice scratchy and abused. 

“No kid,” Hank says gently. He reaches out, tries to pull the kid out of his curled position. He takes Jason’s face with his other hand, calloused skin against the smoothness of youth, as he directs him back into his line of vision, instead of over his shoulder. “It’s me. Hank. Dawn’s here too.”

He takes the kid’s face with other hand, bracketing him, turning him to look at Dawn.

“Hi Jason,” Dawn says, reaching out with her own hand.

“ _ Dick _ !” Jason hisses and wrenches himself away from both of them, eyes wildly looking around him. “ _ Where’s Dick _ ?”

“Not here, buddy-” Hank tries, calmly, hands out placatingly.

“We came when we heard you were sick,” Dawn says in explanation, her voice soft, and calm, although it seems to have the opposite effect on Jason.

“No, no, no-” Jason says, scrambling up the bed until he’s against the wall. He brings his own hands to his head, hitting himself over and over. “ - I  _ need _ Dick.”

“Whoa, kid! Enough of that…” Hank says. He tries to grab at Jason’s hands to stop him from hurting himself further.

“I _need_ Dick” Jason snaps loudly, slapping Hank’s hands away. “I _keep_ falling. Over and over. Dick needs to _stop_ it,” he shudders and brings his knees up this chest, hiding his face in his hands before snapping his head up in alarm and looking right through them again, in a thousand yard stare. “No, _not_ _again_. Dick? Don’t let me fall. Don’t let me go? _Please…_” The kid’s eyes fill with tears, mouth opening in a soundless scream, terror emitting from every pore of his body.

Hank climbs on the bed and kneels in front of him, taking him by the shoulders, half expecting him to fight or push him away again.

“I know you feel scared and alone right now,” Hank says when it becomes apparent that Jason isn’t going to do either. “When you were abducted, when you were in that basement, when you were  _ falling _ ,” he pauses and takes a breath. Jason’s unclear eyes refocus and some clarity drifts back. “When we accused you of all that bullshit at the tower, you felt alone. I’m sorry, Jason. I really am. But you’re not, alone. We’re here. Me and Dawn. Right here, right now.”

Jason pulls back, wipes at his eyes and mutters “Gonna puke,” before turning away and vomiting over the side of the bed again.

Afterwards Jason is left trembling with such force, Dawn asks “Is he seizing? Rose said she thought he had a seizure. Is he seizing now?”

“Not a seizure,” Jason mutters as Hank helps him sit back up. There’s still some clarity in his eyes. “Not  _ sick _ sick.”

“I don’t even want to know what your definition of sick is,” Hank snorts.

“Went out,” Jason says in small aborted gasps.

“Out? Where?” Dawn asks

“Rose sleeping. Patrol.”

“On your own?” Hank repeats. This kid was stupid as fuck at times. “Are you out of your mind. How did that go for you last time?”

“Hank-” Dawn warns him.

Jason snorts and shrugs.

“Stupid. My fault. All the time.”

Hank’s pretty sure Dick and Jason are one and the same, their self-imposed exiles were clear attempts at punishing themselves. 

“Hey,” he says, snapping his fingers in front of Jason’s face. “Patrol? What happened?”

“Fight. I lost,” a breath and then, “ _ Toxin _ .”

It all clicks into place then. He’s only seen it once before, back in their Titan days. Dick had been dosed and Hank and Donna had been left to deal with the fallout, while Dawn had been out of town.

“Give me your phone,” he says to Dawn, figuring if there was any chance at all that Dick was going to listen to his messages or heck, return  _ a goddamn call, _ it would probably be in response to Dawn trying than him.

“What?” Dawn says, fumbling the phone into his hand. “What is it?”

“Listen Dick,” he seethes into the phone. “We found Jason, and he’s in a bad way. He’s pretty sick,” he watches as Jason lists to the side, falling into another litany of begging and pleading and asking for Dick, which was probably one of the most disturbing things out of this whole mess, considering the kid usually had an insult for the other man. “I’m pretty sure it’s a fear toxin, so stop being a dickless-Dick and call us back, asshole!”

* * *

All three end up in the car. Dawn drives because Jason latches onto Hank’s jacket like he’s a limpet.

“Don’t let go,” the kid mumbles into his chest. “Don’t let me fall.”

He catches sight of the amused look Dawn gives them in the rear view mirror.

“Don’t you dare mention this,” Hank warns her as he pulls the kid onto the back seat of the car, letting the kid fall into him. “Ever.”

“My lips are sealed,” she says with a smirk before frowning at Jason’s pained whine.

“No, please don’t…  _ Don’t _ ,” Jason cries and Hank bites his lip for only a second before putting his arms around him. Jason’s cry pitters out until there’s only the small pained whimper in between breaths.

Thankfully the car had survived and no tires were stolen while they’d been collecting Jason and they’d been driving for a few hours, unsure of their destination and a weak hope that Dick would call them back, when Hank’s phone vibrates in his pocket. He drags the phone out, careful not to jostle Jason, who’d finally fallen into a restless sleep.

One simple message from an unknown number. 

An address he’d never heard of before.  _ Safehouse,  _ it says.

“ _ Dick? _ ” Jason mumbles.

“Yeah, kid, Dick…”

At least he hopes so.

* * *

The safehouse is nice. It’s clean and tidy and surprisingly doesn’t have much tech, but it has medical supplies and food, which is all Hank really cares about.

They get the kid cleaned and washed, which was a feat in itself when the kid had progressed from being scared he was going to fall, to being scared of everything, including bath water and the flannel pyjamas he’d found. He has no idea why Dick or Bruce have acquired said pyjamas when he knows Dick was just a shirt and pants guy. 

He snorts at the idea of Bruce in flannel.

Eventually he manages to wrestle Jason into the flannel bottoms but the kid squeaks a terrified gasp at the top and shakes his head. He does, however, accept one of Hank’s plain t-shirts without question.

Jason refuses to be left in the bedroom so they settle him on the couch instead and leave a bucket by his side in case he’s sick again. Apart from the one he’d witnessed at the other apartment, there’d been two rounds of it in the car and a further one in the bathroom when the kid had stood up too quickly.

Hank and Dawn fall into a routine in the kitchen, working around each other while they make lunch. A meaty sandwich for Hank, something light and easy on the stomach for Jason.

They’re halfway through their preparations when there is a knock on the door and Dawn opens it. 

Donna’s there, an overnight bag hanging from her shoulder.

“I guess you got the same message?” she asks when both he and Dawn look as equally surprised to see her. She steps in and pauses when she sees Jason curled up asleep on the couch. “Huh, was not expecting that. What’s wrong with him?”

“Fear toxin,” Hank shrugs, heading over to the couch and pulling the blanket that had shifted away from Jason, back up and over the kid’s now boneless form.

Donna whistles in sympathy, “Poor kid, wasn’t fun the first time round.”

“Have you heard from any of the others?”

“Not a dickie-bird,” Donna says and smiles lightly when Hank snorts. “Rachel did a runner. I’m presuming this,” she waves her phone, “was from Dick.”

She dumps her bag on the table and heads over to join them in the kitchen.

“Yeah,” Hank agrees as he pulls some eggs out of their box. “What we figured too.”

“Just not sure why he wants me here too,” she adds.

“Maybe he wants us all together, in case he thinks it’s Deathstroke who dosed Jason,” Dawn shrugs.

“You think it is?” Donna asks, eyes raising as she hops up to the counter.

“Nah, kid went on patrol, got into trouble,” Hank says. “He was pretty low key until then.”

“Stupid,” Donna mutters, looking over her shoulder at the still sleeping form.

“Scared and alone,” Hank says instead. “Fear can make you stupid.”

They eat lunch and Hank manages to get Jason to eat a small bowl of soup and some bread after promising it wasn’t poisoned and half bribing him with a trip to Wyoming and Jason drifts back into a restless sleep.

They’re halfway through cleaning up when the door to the safehouse opens and they all look up to see Dick standing in the doorway.

“Deathstroke will come after us,” Hank reminds him.

“We’re not all here yet,” Dick says. He eyes Donna and sees the obvious missing Rachel. “It will give us time to regroup.”

He pauses and steps in the room, dropping his bag at his feet as he looks at Jason.

“And we’re stronger  _ together _ ,” he adds. He drops down on the end of the couch, gathers Jason’s feet into his lap, and settles a hand onto Jason’s leg. “The lies are over. We need to stick together. Be a  _ family _ .”

Hank stops in front of Dick. He could punch him all over again. Grab him right off the couch and throw his ass out.

“I’m really pissed at you Dick, really pissed -” Hank says. He nods down at Jason, “But the kid needs you. Been asking for you over and over again. Seems to think you’re gonna keep him from falling.”

Dick nods and looks at Jason again.

“From what you described it sounds like a trauma toxin or essence de trauma,” he says, reaching out to run his hand through Jason’s hair. “I’m guessing the latter. It recreates one of your most traumatic experiences. Should be out of his system in a few days.”

Dawn watches him as he cards his hand through Jason’s hair, scraping his fingers at the boy’s scalp.

“Dick’s right,” she says, coming to stand next to Donna. “The only way we can survive Deathstroke is together. Being apart is the worst thing to happen.”

“What happened to Rose?” Dick asks.

“She left him behind. Took his phone,” Hank shrugs, “Even if he wanted to call you he couldn’t.”

Dick’s jaw twitched, a flash of anger maybe, before he nods. “She’s just a scared kid …” he snorts. “We all are.”

“Well,” Hank waves at Jason. “We shouldn’t have left Jason. Not after everything that happened.”

Dick nods again and starts to say something…

_ “Dick?”  _ Jason mumbles, unclear eyes blinking at him from under his hand. “Am I still falling?”

“No, Jason, you’re not,” Dick says. “Not anymore.”

“Are you really here this time?” he asks, voice unsure, a slight begging tilt to it.

“I’m here,” Dick says, snagging Jason’s hand up and squeezing it. “And I’m not going anywhere this time.”

Jason doesn’t reply but Hank sees the kid give a small squeeze back and nods, just once, before rolling on to his side, pulling the covers back over him, and Dick continues his weird petting of his head.

“So what now?” Donna asks.

“Now?” Dick says, turning his determined face back to the Titans, “We get Kori, Gar and Rachel back.”

_ And a super-kid, _ Hank thinks.  _ That will be helpful too. _

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> In the words of one Jason Todd, The Titans are back, bitches!
> 
> Hit me up on tumblr if you want : cuppachar


End file.
